THE NIGHT YOU CALLED

speed writing.

I woke up in a cold sweat, sometime around two o’clock in the morning, after having that repetitive dream of me looking at my friends and family, calling for help as I began to drown in a shark infested ocean… That’s when you called, and I cant lie, Hearing your voice put me in a state of comfort I hadn’t been in since the first few weeks of us sleeping in the same bed. I remember laying there as our foreheads touched, believing that you and I at that exact moment was the only important thing in my life, and it was. It really was.

Now we fast forward to a year later, and I’m put into an abyss by the sound of your voice. You take me places when you speak, smile, or when you love through your eyes. You did then and you do now. In a matter of seconds, I began to think of the time we shared, enjoying life as we made it, sitting around planning the future, listening to each other as no one else would. Damn I miss that, I need that, I feign for it still.

I must admit, I was never able to love another again like I loved you, and I swear sometimes it seems as if I died when our relationship ended. Damn, When I finally mature and understand things is when it’s too late, and now we are so far apart, and it’s been that way for so long, too long. Time away from you feels like a prison bid, and I lost count of the time served on the first day.

I LOVE YOU, CAMILLE

I LOVE YOU, CAMILLE

“There is something you should know about me,” Camille spoke softly while looking ahead into the bedroom wall mirror at her reflection. Distress covered her face from worry of her partner’s reaction from what was soon to confess. Could she trust him, or would he end up being just like the rest of the them?

Stretched out on the bed and positioned between her legs was Darius, a co-worker whom she’d allowed herself to have feelings for the past three months. That night was the first evening they’d spend together, alone in an expensive hotel suite. Darius had spent his entire paycheck for the hotel room and their evening meal at The Caucus Room establishment in Washington, DC. He hoped his overspending would pay off later that night.

Frustrated by her demand to cease foreplay, Darius lifted his head from between her legs and rolled his eyes, showing little to no interest in whatever she had to say, but he would tolerate it by listening, just as long as he would leave the hotel with a notch under his belt and a story to tell to his co-workers, whom he set a wager with, guaranteeing he’d tag her that night. Taking her underwear would be his evidence to win the bet.

Darius looked at his partner as if he were interested. Camille however was concerned with what he’d say or do after she told him of her little secret.

It was several years and tears long ago, seated in the corner of her living room, making excuses to two police officers as to why she had bruises on her wrist, neck and lower back. She knew they didn’t believe her, they must deal with women like her all the time. The ones who defend their abusive boyfriends because they are madly in love with them, or confusing love with fear.

Calvin, —her boyfriend at the time— sat quietly on the couch as the officers kept a corner eye on him. They had no choice but to leave and explain to the neighbor downstairs that her concerned call for help was nothing more than the couple trying to reconstruct their living room furniture setup, but everyone knew Calvin was beating on her when she’d often threaten to leave him.

He’d always say he loved her, and there was no other man worthy of having her. He believed in his heart and mind that God made her for him, and he was not willing to let her leave out of his life under any circumstances. Though he was abusive, he’d go to hell for her, and he believed she should go with him.

BRICK: Episode III

Episode III: ALL IN FULL

Twenty minutes passed by…

I found myself drowning and fighting for my life while still seated in a desk chair. One of the gangsters called it water-boarding. Who the fuck thinks of some crazy-ass shit like that to torture somebody?

Let there be light…

The soaked towel was pulled from over my face as I was introduced to the motel room light, after being unwillingly reclined in the chair and tortured for what felt like forever. Trae and Domo didn’t do shit, and they thought they were bad-ass thugs on the block, not that night. Those four gangsters had my friends sitting naked in the corner like slaves from that Amistad flick. Cowering like a couple of bitches.

Speaking of bitches: Meesh and Kendra were laying face down on the bed. One if the white gangsters kept his eyes on them with a hard-on, as both of the girls were also naked at the time. Now that I look back on the scenario, I realize I was the only one who had clothes on.

The Black-Asian mixed guy approached me with fire in his eyes, like he wanted to kill me for taking his balls from him.

“Da fuck you thought, I was a nobody? You thought I was a goon or something?” He said while stroking his chin hair with a razor-sharp hunting knife. I felt my stomach ball-up as he spoke.

BRICK: Episode II

Episode II: THE BIG PAYBACK

          I’ve been in the club V.I.P. section a few times in the past, but never was it as live and colorful as it was that night. There were bottles of expensive wines that were half empty, just laying around like cheap liquor. We stood and looked over everyone else who was partying and having a good time that night. All eyes were on the three of us.

Trae hand-selected a few women to join us and leave with a bottle or two. I’d never been in the V.I.P. area in that fashion, it was such a beautiful feeling, but in the back of my mind, I was wondering how long that lifestyle would last, I mean, we’d just stolen a stack of cash and a kilogram of pure cocaine from some wannabe mafioso prick at the diner.

If we were going to live this life forever, we’d need to flip that brick to make back a good profit. That should get us into the drug game, and perhaps a step closer to finding a good connect, who would be willing to do business with a group of rookie dealers. Or maybe we’d just stretch out the kilo and sell it all ourselves, split the profit and walk away from it all.

I seemed to be the only one thinking about it that night, from the club to the motel room, where Trae and Domo had convinced a few girls that the real party was with us. There were three of us and only two women, Meesh and Kendra, two stupid bitches who were just happy to be in V.I.P. Obsessed with the glamorous life they see in rap videos but can’t afford to have in reality. We damn sure wasn’t living that life, but it did look that way in the club.

They thought we were rappers, and they were down to do anything that night, all for a chance to live that lifestyle.

Trae was making road maps out of a small portion of the cocaine we brought with us to the motel room. Everyone took turns to set the mood, but the girls were already down to do whatever we wanted. They’d been drinking and pill popping the whole night, so Domo and Trae just snorted the lines and got busy.

BRICK: Episode I

FINDERS, TAKERS

I could somewhat see my reflection in the door of the dryer machine as I listened to the commentary of the twelve o’clock news, waiting in the laundromat, just a few blocks away from my apartment building. Just as the news came to a close for the early afternoon, I was met by the all-too-familiar sounds of daytime talk-show host and their guest hollering about whatever bullshit situation that led them onto the show. You know how it goes, Who’s the daddy, that old bullshit.

I turned in the direction of the change machine to get a few more quarters, and just as I looked ahead with a few crumbled dollar bills in hand, I saw the face of a woman whom I never expected to see again… That bitch, Kendra, bending her big ass over to get something out of the soda machine.

I immediately pushed the dollar bills back into my denim jeans pocket and balled my fist, believing I would crack that bitch’s head open if I got within striking distance. I looked around to take in the emptiness of the laundry facility. Nobody wasn’t washing no damn clothes on a Wednesday afternoon but me, so I knew I could slide right over and beat the brakes off of that bitch without any witnesses.

Wait, before I proceed, let me fill you in on who she is and the events that led to the current situation…

The “BRICK” Series: Introduction

As I said before, I wanted to try another subject of fiction writing, and so I began writing a series that I would like to call The BRICK series. I must say this again: I’m not a fan of the drug game or the drug lifestyle that ninety-percent of rappers fantasize about in their songs. This is just something that I wanted to mess around with and see what comes from it.

The first entry in the series was okay, but it helped me think of something even better, so I’m going to take that out of the series and replace it with a better beginning, using the flash-fiction style to create a shorter read and a longer series.

Do Enjoy!

- Cynical

Passion

Mature readers only, I guess.

The night was still young, calling for anything that her and I desired at the time. Me, all I could think of was how she’d look with her clothes off. I wanted her in the worst way, but those thoughts and desires could’ve been brought about from the few alcoholic beverages I’d consumed during our lengthy conversation.

I didn’t know how intoxicated I was until standing, staggering out of the sports bar, down a dark and misty road that I was unfamiliar with. It could’ve due to the drinks complicating my vision and making the neighborhood look like something out of an old noir film. I didn’t care as much, believing it would all end with me and her in bed: the lady in red.